Breaking The Rules

Morning After

Justin POV

I awaken to a delicious chocolaty aroma, and slowly open one eye, then the other, squinting as the ray of light beaming from the window shines directly in my face. As I sit up in the large bed, I feel a little disoriented.

Where the fuck am I? I feel the soreness in my ass and suddenly the events from the night before come flooding back into my mind, causing me to smile. I look over next to me and see the now empty side of the bed, a body imprint still apparent in the sheets.

I stretch my arms, and notice that I actually feel very rested; something I haven't felt for a while. Must be the bed.

My bladder feels as though it's going to explode, so I drag myself out of the bed to relieve myself in the nearby bathroom. Afterwards, I pull on my boxers that had been flung across the room last night, and decide to let my nose guide me to where the yummy aroma is coming from.

I walk into the kitchen, and see Brian sitting at the table reading a newspaper and drinking from a coffee mug. He is wearing black sweatpants and no shirt. His hair is slightly sticking up in the back. He looks so fucking hot, and I feel my cock twitch. He looks up at me and gives me a warm smile.

"Hey, you're up," he says. I nod with a yawn. He gestures to the chair next to him. "Have a seat. I just made a fresh pot of coffee, if you'd like some," he tells me.

"Yeah, it smells great. I think that is what woke me up," I tell him, grabbing the coffee pot and pouring some into an empty mug on the table. I breathed in the heavenly scent as the steam lifted from the hot liquid.

"What kind of coffee is this?" I ask.

"It's Hazelnut Cream," he answers, as he takes a sip from his own cup. "I'm kind of a coffee nut. I have a bunch of assorted flavors of coffee that I buy online. The place I buy it from is way better than that Starbucks shit," he assures me.

After adding my usual amount of sugar and cream, I take a sip of the coffee, and can honestly say that it is the best damn coffee I've ever had.

"Pretty good, huh?" he says smiling, already knowing my answer by the expression on my face.

"It's not bad," I tell him with a small smile.

"Did you sleep okay?" he asks, as he directs his attention back to the newspaper in front of him.

"Yeah, I slept like a log. I usually don't sleep that well in other people's beds... actually, I don't usually sleep well period," I tell him, then frown, as I realize I just offered information about myself that he really didn't need to know. Why did I just tell him that I don't sleep well? Then he might want to start asking me all sorts of questions and getting into my business. I look at him carefully, and wait for him to say something.

"Same here. I'm also a very light sleeper, which is part of it," he says.

We sit in silence for a short while, sipping our coffee, and I start thinking about how I should make my exit. See, this is what I hate. There's always the awkwardness the next morning. It's been a while since I've stayed over at anyone's house. I'm still not sure why I even agreed to stay here last night. I'm suddenly pulled from my thoughts when I realize that Brian is talking to me.

"I'm sorry, what did you say? I guess the coffee hasn't kicked in yet," I say lamely.

"I asked if you had any plans for today," he says nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I've got to work," I tell him.

"You should have said something, I would have woken you earlier. What time do you have to be there?" he asks.

"Oh, no, not that kind of work. I'm an artist, and I'm working on a few paintings. I have a show coming up in a couple of weeks, and there are a few pieces that I still have to get done before then," I tell him. He looks at me intrigued, and smiles.

"Now that makes sense," he says.

"What does?" I ask.

"Well, it explains a few things about you. The way you seem to study all of your surroundings, and the delicate way you use your hands," he tells me, and reaches out to run his hand over mine softly. "Artists hands," he says, smiling.

I blush a little, flashing on our incredible sex from last night; our hands all over each other; his beauty taking my breath away and me wishing I had my sketch pad to capture his striking features on paper.

I look into his eyes. I can see the tenderness in them. It would be so easy to melt back into those strong arms. He seems like a great guy, not to mention he is a really good fuck.

No, Justin. You already had him. No repeats. Stop thinking like a lesbian.

I pull away from him, not wanting to fall under his spell again. I can see he notices my discomfort and backs off.

"Well, I won't keep you from your work," Brian says. I nod, and stand up and head towards the bedroom to get dressed.

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Brian's POV

Justin and I had an incredible night last night. I wasn't sure how things would be between us this morning. When I woke up this morning, he looked so beautiful and angelic sleeping next to me. I wanted to reach out and touch him, all of him, and give him a proper wake-up call, but I held back, because even though he agreed to stay the night, he seemed very hesitant, and that tells me that he is most likely uncomfortable with repeats. I didn't want to cross any lines, so I decided instead to get up and make a pot of my best coffee and wait for him to wake up so I could test the waters.

As we sat at the table together, I sneaked a glance at Justin as he sipped on his coffee and noticed that he seemed a little nervous. It's apparent that he doesn't do this type of thing often. Usually, I don't act this way with tricks. I mean, yes, sometimes I let men stay the night if we're really exhausted after fucking, but I usually don't ask them to stay. Somehow, though, Justin seems different. He seems very interesting, and I find myself really wanting to get to know him. And I can see that he is trying to resist me. When I look at him, something in his eyes tells me that he wants to get to know me too... but he seems very guarded. It makes me wonder who or what in his past has made him the way he is.

It's been a while since I've been in a relationship. Honestly, I just haven't had much time to date because of my career. Owning your own advertising agency will do that. I've only had it for a year, so you can imagine how crazy things have been.

My thoughts are interrupted when I hear a knock on my loft door. I walk over and open it, seeing a very anxious little boy squirming in his mother's arms and reaching out for me.

"Dada!" Gus screams, and Lindsay willingly hands my son to me. I take him in my arms and hug him, and he rests his head on my shoulder.

"Hey, how's my little guy doing, huh?" I ask him. He wraps his little arms around my neck and holds on to me tightly and gives my cheek a sloppy kiss.

"He's been asking for you all morning," Lindsay says with a smile, as she walks into the loft, carrying a duffel bag full of Gus's things.

"Well, I'm all yours, Sonnyboy. We're going to have a good time today, aren't we?" I ask him. He smiles at me widely and nods.

"Dada fun," he says with a giggle.

"Hey, Brian, have you seen --" we see Justin emerge from my bedroom, and he looks just as surprised to see Lindsay and Gus as they are to see him. "my keys...?" he finishes and then smiles awkwardly at us.

"They're on the coffee table," I tell him, and he nods and walks over there to retrieve his keys, before coming over to join us.

"Who dat, dada?" Gus asks, pointing at Justin.

"Oh, um. I didn't realize you had company, Brian," Lindsay says with a smile. She looks at Justin, and holds out her hand to him. "Hi, I'm --"

"Lindsay Peterson," Justin finishes with a smile, as he shakes her hand. Lindsay gives a surprised look.

"Have we met?" Lindsay asks.

"Yes, we met briefly at your gallery a few months ago. I mostly spoke with Sydney. I'm having a show at your gallery," Justin told her. Lindsay suddenly gets a look of recognition in her eyes and smiles widely.

"Oh yes, of course, Justin Taylor! I'm so sorry. I didn't recognize you at first," she apologizes with a blush.

"It's okay. I'm sure this is the last place you expected to run into me," he says. Lindsay gives a little giggle.

"That's true," Lindsay said, shooting a knowing look my way. I give her my best innocent look, and the look on her face says she doesn't buy it.

"Well, I know you've been talking a lot with Sydney. He's kind of been filling in for me because my schedule has been so crazy lately; but I'm actually the one who will be in charge of the setup for your show. So, if you have anything that you want to discuss with me about it, or have questions, feel free to give me a call," Lindsay tells him and reaches into her purse for her business card and hands it to him. I can see that he is a little surprised, and he smiles graciously.

"That's great, thank you," he replies, taking her card.

"No problem. I'm looking forward to your show. You are a very talented artist. Sydney has shown me some of your work, and I must say I am very impressed," Lindsay says smiling at him.

"Thank you," he says, returning your smile. He looks over at my son, who is looking at him curiously, and he smiles at him.

"Dada, who dat?" Gus asks again, impatiently. Justin gives him a warm smile.

"I'm Justin," he tells him.

"Hi. I Gus," he says to Justin, smiling back him shyly, and then buries his head in my neck. He looks like he's going to say something else to Gus, when Lindsay starts talking.

"I'm sorry, you guys, I've got to get going," she frowns as she looks at her watch. She first kisses Gus on the forehead, and then me on the cheek. "Bye, baby. Listen to Dada, okay? I'll be back later to pick you up," she tells our son, and he nods. "Justin, it was really great seeing you again, and please don't hesitate to call," she tells him, and they shake hands.

"Thanks, I'll be in touch," he tells her. She smiles at us all and then rushes out the door. I look at Gus and tickle him a little, which causes him to start giggling in his adorable way that warms my heart.

"So what do you want to do, Sonnyboy?" I ask him.

"Pooh!" he shouts. I roll my eyes, and then look at Justin, who lets out a laugh and looks as if he is trying to keep from smiling. I laugh too, knowing that he doesn't know what Gus is referring to.

"All right, Pooh, it is," I tell Gus, putting him down so I can get open the duffel bag Lindsay brought. Finally finding the DVD in question, I hold it up so that Gus sees it and he starts to clap his hands in excitement.

"Yay! Pooh!" he yells, and immediately goes to sit in front of the TV. I walk over to the entertainment center and turn on the TV and put the DVD in the player. Gus watches the screen attentively as The Many Adventures of Winnie The Pooh, starts to play.

I walk over to where Justin is standing, and I see him smirking at me. Obviously he is now aware that Gus was talking about a movie and not bowel movements.

"God, I lost count of how many times he's seen that damn movie," I tell him. He smiles at me.

"I'll bet not as many times as I've seen Yellow Submarine," he says. His face softens and he gives me a genuine look. "You're a good father. Gus is a very lucky little boy," he says quietly.

"Thank you," I tell him. I want to reach out and touch his face again; feel his smooth skin under my fingers, but I stop myself, because I'm not sure how he'll react. He hasn't given me the impression that he's interested in a repeat, or even that he wants to see me again. I decide to start testing the waters now.

"So, who would ever guess that you would end up having a show at Lindsay's gallery," I say with a small laugh.

"Yeah, that was a strange coincidence. And a little awkward," he admits.

"Well, I might just have to make an appearance at your show. You know, just to see if you're as good as they say you are; although I already know at least a few things you're good at," I tease. He looks at me like he's unsure of what to say.

"Um, I don't know if that's a good idea, Brian," he tells me.

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Justin's POV

This morning just keeps getting more interesting by the minute. Everything seems to be in disarray, and I'm not sure what to make of it. For some reason, this guy Brian, is having an effect on me. I find myself doing and saying things that I normally wouldn't. The list of things I've done wrong just keep growing. Things that I'm afraid I'll come to regret.

I should have already been gone. I should have left last night right after we fucked. But I didn't. I agreed to stay. He offered to let me sleep in the guest room, and I chose to share his bed with him. I then asked him if I could join him in the shower, where we gave each other hand jobs. This morning I stayed for coffee, and on a couple of occasions I ended up volunteering personal information about myself.

What the fuck is wrong with me? This guy seems like he may be interested in more than just a one-time roll in the hay. And the scary thing is, I want to give in. He's gorgeous, smart, funny; and I can tell what a great father he is just by the few minutes I observed him with his son. He looks like he has a big heart, with a lot of love to give. And now, I can see that he's trying to see if he has a chance. When I tell him I don't think coming to my show is a good idea, he doesn't seem surprised.

"Do you have something against a friend coming to your show to support and admire your work?" he asks looking me in the eyes.

"Brian, we're not friends. We're not anything," I tell him. He looks down at the floor, like he's slightly wounded by my words, and his eyes meet mine again as he nods slowly.

"What if I told you that it's possible I'm interested in us being something?" he asks

Well that was bold of him. This is just great. All right, now this is the part where my walls stand firmly in tact. No one is getting through these suckers.

"That's impossible," I tell him with a stern face. He looks amused.

"Excuse me? Would you mind telling me how that is impossible? You are capable of being friends with someone, are you not?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Is that all you want? To just be friends?" I ask.

"Well, I think all relationships should start out that way. It's important to get to know a person before deciding if you should take that next step," he tells me. I look at him incredulously, wondering how we even got into this conversation. Sneaky little asshole.

"Forget about it. This is fucking nuts," I whisper harshly, then look over to where Gus is entranced in his movie, making sure that the little boy didn't hear me curse.

"Christ, I'm not offering you a ring, I just want to get to know you. Is that so wrong?" Brian asks irritated.

I sigh at him in frustration, and he puts his hands on my shoulders and stare at each other.

"Look, who knows what will happen? Maybe the friendship thing will work out; maybe it will turn out to be more, or maybe we won't like each other at all. I just want a chance to find out so that I won't ever have to ask myself 'what if'. Last night I think I felt something more was there between us than just fucking, and I could have swore you felt the same by the look in your eyes," he says.

I'm blown away. How could I have let myself become that vulnerable?

I sigh at him again, not wanting to give in, but feeling myself let his words soak in and having an effect on my decision.

"You really want to be my friend?" I ask him.

"I would like to get to know you better, yes," he answers.

"Well, just so you know, I don't fuck my friends. If I see you again, it'll just be to hang out, no hanky-panky," I tell him, and wait for a disappointed reaction. To my surprise, his face has not changed its determined look.

"That's fine. I'll tell you what. Unless you decide you want something more from me, I promise not to cross the line, if you promise to give our friendship a chance," he bargains.

Sounds fair enough. We'll see how long he can last in this "friendship" without any sex from me, before he cracks. Hopefully, he'll get frustrated that he's not getting anywhere with me, and he'll go away.

"All right, it's a deal, friend," I smirk. He gives me a satisfied smile and I almost feel as if I've sold my soul to the devil. Brian is fucking good at this. He just totally talked his way into this, and I never saw it coming.

We are interrupted by my ringing cell phone, and I look at the caller ID. I hold my hand up to Brian.

"Excuse me, I've got to answer this," I tell him. He nods in understanding, and walks over to where Gus is, to give me some privacy, as I answer the phone.

"Hey, Mom, listen I'm not at home right now, can I call you ba--" I start to say when she interrupts me.

"Justin, I can't take it anymore," Mom says, and I can tell she's been crying.

"Okay, just calm down and tell what this is about," I instruct her calmly.

"It's Molly, she's out of control. I ... Justin. I'm at my wit's end. I don't know what to do anymore," she tells me.

"All right. Just hold on, I'll be there in 20 minutes, okay?" I tell her and then hang up, not giving her a chance to say anything else. There's no use in talking to her when she's hysterical like this.

Brian walks over to me when he sees I'm off the phone. "Is everything all right?" he asks.

"Not really, but it will be. I've really got to go now," I tell him.

"Here's my card," he says handing me his business card which has all of his contact numbers on it. I take it from him and read it carefully to myself. Brian Kinney. Founder of Kinnetic Advertising Inc. Ah-ha, it all makes sense now! I start laughing.

"What?" he asks with a frown.

"You're in advertising?" I ask.

"Yeah, so?" answers.

"So, now I know how you expertly argued and bargained your way into my life," I say, smirking at him. "You cheated," I tell him. He smiles at me and hold his hands up in the air.

"Guilty as charged," he says.

I laugh at him, and shake my head. "Well, I'll see you around, friend," I tell him, heading towards the door.

"Hey, Justin," he calls out and I turn around and look at him.

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Aren't you going to give me your phone number?" he asks.

I smile at him and shake my head. "Don't worry. I'll call you," I assure him, as I hold up the card he gave me. I open his loft door and walk out. Once I'm outside his loft I look at his card again and smile.

'Brian Kinney, just how are you planning on fitting into my life?' I whisper to myself. I think about tossing the card into the nearest trashcan. That's what I would normally do; but instead, I put the card in my wallet, and shake my head. I know that I will call him. Shit. What am I getting myself into?